And a Happy New Year
by Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs
Summary: Melinda May is drunk on whipped cream vodka and Phil Coulson. Academy era, established relationship.


A/N: Basically a pwp for Lilly. Also probably the dirtiest thing I've ever written. It was quite fun. Academy era!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

><p>Phil's mother's house is very nice; it's warm and comforting and constantly smells like baking bread. She'd been there a handful of times before, but this time she was there as Phil's…girlfriend seemed like such a clichéd term, but they'd been sleeping together for the past twelve months, so they were certainly more than just friends.<p>

She'd agreed to spend the holidays with him once she'd learned her mother was going to be spending them on an op in Peru, and she hadn't wanted to spend them getting drunk with Maria and Clint at the Academy. She'd never celebrated Hanukkah, but she'd liked learning about Phil's family's traditions, watching him light the candles and say the prayers. She herself wasn't religious- she and her mother celebrated Christmas, but it had always been a small affair.

Phil's mother was warm and kind, with a wide smile and generous hugs. She included Melinda into the festivities easily, and Melinda had caught her watching her and Phil interact more than once with a smile on her face. Melinda liked her, and had enjoyed spending the holiday with her.

But she'd decided to spend New Year's Eve with a friend an hour away, leaving them with the house to themselves, which they had taken full advantage of. Maria had gifted Melinda with two bottles of whipped cream vodka for Christmas, and they were almost done with the second bottle. She'd never seen Phil full-on drunk, and she didn't think she was supposed to be _quite_ as turned on by it as she was.

Phil's mouth moved down her neck, teeth nipping gently at his pulse point and she gasped, fingers tightening their grip on his hair as his name leaves her throat on a moan. She shifted her hips over his, a soft whine leaving her throat when his erection pressed against her clit through her leggings, pushing down harder against him.

"_God_, Melinda," Phil groaned, hand kneading her ass as she ground against him, head tilting back and allowing him to drag his teeth over her collarbone. "You're so fucking hot."

"Mm, so are you," she murmurs, leaning down to recapture his mouth, his tongue tasting like the vodka they'd been drinking and his skin smelling like the warm, spicy scent that was Phil Coulson. His hands gripped her shirt and tugged it over her head, groaning low in his throat when he discovered she'd forgone a bra, her nipples standing at firm points in the cool air of the living room. He licked his thumb, slicking it over her left breast as his mouth covered the right; his tongue was sloppy with alcohol, but it sent a rush of heat and wetness between her legs, and she gasped out his name again, fingers pressing into the back of his head to bring him closer to her chest.

He switched his mouth to her other breast, distracting her as his hand slid down her bare stomach and into her leggings, directly into the scrap of lace she called panties and brushing over her dripping wet clit. She cried out in surprise, jolting in his arms as he brushed two fingers over the bundle of nerves, increasing the pressure.

He knew all the buttons to push; he sucked at the pulse point in her neck while he slid his fingers down to her entrance, sliding through the slickness there before pushing two inside of her, leaving her with no choice but to cry out his name, hips rocking into his touch. He didn't have much room to work with while her leggings were still on, so with a little bit of struggling she shoved them down her legs with her panties, spreading her legs wider over his lap once she was free of the fabric, giving him more room to work.

"I think I want my face between your thighs," Phil murmurs huskily in her ear, and she bites her lip against the cry that bubbles in her throat. She'd discovered early on that Phil had a thing for dirty talk, and it _did _things to her. "I've been thinking about your clit in my mouth all day."

"_Phil_," she whimpered, pushing down onto his hand harder, his fingers slipping even further inside of her.

"Would you like that?" he asks, voice low in her ear as he tugs at her earlobe with his teeth, sliding his fingers out of her and slicking them over her clit, causing sharp shocks of heat between her legs. "Would you like my teeth on your clit and my tongue inside of you, Melinda?"

"Yes," she replies hoarsely, close to begging. "Yes, I want your mouth on me, I want my clit between your teeth, I want you to fuck my cunt with your tongue."

"God I love it when you tell me what you want," he says, voice practically a growl as he flipped their positions, tugging her to the edge of the couch as he licked his way up her slit. She moans as she buries her hands in his hair, tugging tightly as he devours her. He's a little sloppy, the fact that he's considerably drunk showing, but she just tugs his face tighter against her, panting as she tries to catch her breath.

"Your tongue feels so good inside of me," she pants out, shutting her eyes tightly as she arches her back, his nose pressing against her clit as his tongue slips further inside of her.

"Open your eyes, Mel," Phil says, abandoning her cunt to press kisses to the inside of her thighs, fingers slipping and sliding through the wetness between her legs. "Watch me."

He leans forward, deliberately slow, extending his tongue to press against her clit as she looks down the length of her body to watch him, teeth sunken into her bottom lip and eyes wide and dark, pupils blown wide. He licks at her for a moment before he leans forward and nuzzles his nose against her clit, teeth encircling it and biting gently as she cries out his name, legs shaking. She comes with a shake and a sob, her fingers tight in his hair as he licks her through the aftershocks.

Her grip gradually loosens until she tugs him up to her level weakly, kissing him full on the mouth as she tugs at the hem of his shirt. He tosses it away, kissing her again as she licks at his tongue, tasting herself on his mouth. Her fingers trail down his chest, tangling in chest hair and tugging gently, until she reaches his belt buckle. She undoes it with shaky fingers, jerking the zipper down and pushing her hand directly into his boxers, wrapping around his thick, hard cock. He moaned her name, burying his face in her hair as she curled her fingers around him, giving a few sharp tugs of her wrist, constricted by the waistband of his boxers.

She shoved him onto the couch, changing their positions so he sat on the couch, jeans around his knees, boxers still half-on, his erect cock springing out of his boxers, the tip wet and shining with pre-cum. She tugged his jeans off, pressing kisses to his knees as she took of the Captain American socks she'd gotten him as a gift before she pulled off his boxers, leaving him bare to her gaze. She licked her lips, pushing his knees apart with her hands and kissing her way up his thighs, the hair on his legs tickling her chin as she made her way upwards. She licked away the drops of liquid beading at the head, hands gently rubbing his thighs as he buried his hands in her hair, ever gentle.

She swallowed him down without any preamble, relaxing her throat and taking him deep; he groaned out her name, his grip tightening, and she took a breath through her nose, the scent of his musk and sweat overpowering as she began to move her head. She timed her bobs with his thrusts; even a man with as much control as Phil Coulson had trouble keeping his cool during a blowjob. She opened her jaw more when it began to ache, sliding her hands up his thighs to stroke along with underside of his cock, gently playing with the folds of skin around his balls and tugging.

She was just setting up a finishing rhythm when she felt his hands leave her hair and grip her shoulders tugging her up; she released him with a soft pop, slightly annoyed. He pulled her up into his lap, kissing her hard as his hands ran over her body, anchoring themselves on her hips. He broke the kiss, panting, nose brushing hers as he met hers eyes.

"I want to start the new year inside of you," he murmurs against her mouth, and her breath hitches as her stomach tumbles over inside of her, hot flushing her skin at the look in his eyes as he gazed at her. She nodded hurriedly, half distracted as he reached for his jeans, digging through the back pocket until he got hold of a condom. Melinda focused her attention on kissing his neck and jaw, leaving her own collection of small red marks as he rolled it on; he slid his fingers over her, checking how wet she was before he aligned their hips, pushing up inside of her with one long thrust. She moaned out his name, nails digging into his back as Phil paused, giving her a moment to adjust. She kissed him sloppily, one hand on his jaw, the other gripping his back as they started a rhythm.

He was leaning back against the couch, both hands on her hips as he helped her move up and down on his cock; she leaned her head backwards, both hands gripping the back of the couch behind him to give her leverage as she held herself over him. He tried increasing their speed, and finding he was unable to from his position below her, he attempted to flip them, forgetting them were on the couch and not in bed.

They ended up on the floor, Phil holding himself over her as she laughed, shaking her head at the concerned look on his face. "Just get back in there and fuck me, Phil."

He studied her a moment before he did just; he hooked her thigh over his hip, slid back inside her, and started a hard, fast rhythm that had her crying out only a few moments later. She clung to him, aching as he slid deep inside her, pubic bone sliding over her clit with each thrust. Her cries increased in frequency and volume, and she turned her head to see the countdown to midnight had reached less than two minutes.

"Get me off by the time the ball drops," she gasped in his ear, kissing the sweat from his jaw. "Fuck me so hard I'm screaming your name at midnight."

He groaned at her words but picked up his thrusts, pulling himself higher above her as his thrusts got harder, hitting some place inside that had her eliciting high-pitched whimpers as he fucked her. "C'mon Melinda. Scream my name. Scream my name and let everyone know you're mine. Only mine. To touch, to have- to love. You're mine, Melinda. Scream it."

Dimly, Melinda heard Dick Clark countdown from five, but before he had reached zero she was arching her back and screaming Phil's name, loud enough that she was glad Phil's mother lived in the middle of nowhere. She sobbed out his name as she came down from her hair, wrapping herself around him as he struggled to maintain his speed; he fell apart at the soft whisper of "I love you, Phil" she murmured into his ear, climaxing with a soft groan of her name, collapsing against her, breathing heavily.

Once he'd caught his breath he pulled out of her and rolled away; he disposed of the condom and grabbed a blanket, rejoining her on the floor and curling around her, wrapping the blanket around them as they watched the duo singing on the stage, covered in confetti.

"Happy New Year, babe," Phil whispered, pressing a kiss to her neck, nuzzling his nose into her ear. "I love you."

Melinda sighed contentedly, snuggling back further into his arms.

"Happy New Year, Phil."


End file.
